


glad to hear you're coming

by strongandlovestofic



Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Orders, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 05:31:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15700794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strongandlovestofic/pseuds/strongandlovestofic
Summary: “Nope,” he says, popping the p, and Pat knows what's coming and it's proof of his dumbass love for this boy that it's not a deal breaker, “you can just call me Brian. Put your hand in my hair though, Pat Gill, I like it when you think you're in control.”





	glad to hear you're coming

**Author's Note:**

  * For [astralglitter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralglitter/gifts).



> technically the title to this fic is NOT just an orgasm pun but is in fact a lyric from an abba song, because that's my Brand now i guess.

They need to pick up the detritus from the last few live streams from the room — there are bottles and food wrappers scattered around. They need to put the skeleton's arms back together. They need to—

“Fuck,” Pat hisses, and closes his eyes.

“Keep your eyes open,” Brian orders, his voice hoarse but firm. “And on me.”

Brian's hair is getting longer. His nails this week are pink and glittery and already chipping, because he picks at them when he's concentrating. His mouth is pink and wet and stretched wide—

“Brian, fuck, please.”

And now his glasses are smudged, because he didn't take them off and when he pulls back to breathe Pat's dick bumps into them. Brian laughs and removes them, setting them on the couch cushion next to Pat, and Pat starts to laugh too except Brian twists his hand on Pat's dick and that's.

“Oh God,” Pat says weakly, and Brian's wet, pink mouth curls into a grin. Pat’s so fucking susceptible to that grin.

“Nope,” he says, popping the _p_ , and Pat knows what's coming and it's proof of his dumbass love for this boy that it's not a deal breaker, “you can just call me Brian. Put your hand in my hair though, Pat Gill, I like it when you think you're in control.” He winks, and Pat drops his head into the back of the couch.

Fuck's sake. _Think_ you're in control. Pat never thought that’d be something that did it for him, but here they are. (Here they’ve been. This uh. This is definitely a thing Brian does for Pat. That does it for him.)

Brian’s hand tightens on the base of Pat’s dick — fuck’s sake — and Pat forces his head back up. To look at Brian. To keep his eyes on him, because it’s what Brian told him to do, and it gives him. It makes him feel — full. Warm. Wanted.

Brian holds his gaze for a long moment, keeping his grip fucking — solid, and then he lowers his head, tongue sliding out from between his lips to lick at Pat’s dick before he sucks Pat into his mouth.

Pat bites his tongue.

He tangles his hand up in Brian's long hair. Brian hums, the reverberations traveling down the length of Pat's dick, and Pat digs his other hand into his thigh. This was supposed to be a normal Wednesday. They were actually almost going to start the stream on time. And then Brian had cracked a joke about Pat finally going down, and Pat had turned it into a joke about sucking dick, and then Brian had looked at him and told him to sit down.

Pat had dropped to the couch, his legs already spreading, before Brian had finished the command. One day Pat's going to learn not to try and catch Brian up with innuendo. One day he's gonna not be so fucking easy for Brian.

He doesn't know what time it is. His phone’s on the table. They’re gonna be so fucking late, which is what he’s thinking about so he doesn’t focus on the wet heat of Brian’s mouth, the stupid bullshit Brian can manage with his tongue when all Pat can focus on when he’s blowing Brian is keeping his teeth off his dick.

He pulls on Brian’s hair, hard enough that Brian lets out a whimper around his dick — shit. Goddamn — and Brian pulses his hand like Pat’s dick is a fucking water snake toy. Pat laughs, strained, high in the back of his throat, and he wants to close his eyes, wants to drop his head back and just feel this, but he also knows the instant he does Brian’ll stop because he’s an asshole. (Because Brian asked Pat to watch him. Fuck.)

So he watches Brian swallow down his dick. He doesn’t look away. He watches Brian hollow his cheeks, watches his left cheek bulge around Pat’s dick which is. Which is a lot. He watches the long line of Brian’s throat, the curve of his shoulders underneath his stupid fucking soft t-shirt.

Pat digs his fingernails into his thigh. Into Brian’s scalp. He breathes out through his nose and watches Brian’s spit-slick lips swallow his dick down, and then pull back up.

“We’re probably real late,” Brian says, and his voice sounds like he gargled — Pat’s dick. “So you should come.”

Pat opens his mouth to respond and — the only thing that comes out is a soft gasp, because Brian’s dragged his hand up to the head of Pat’s dick and is running his thumb over the top.

“Hey Pat,” Brian says, and he squeezes the head of Pat’s dick in his hand and leans forward again. “Come,” he says, and he opens his mouth and sucks the head of Pat’s dick between his lips.

Pat jerks forward, grabs Brian’s head with the other hand, pulls on his hair and — does what Brian told him to, comes into his mouth with a low groan that’s half-buried against the top of Brian’s head. Stays curled up, shuddering through the aftershocks of Brian being. Being an absolute terror. Shit.

“Goddamn, Brian,” Pat says on an exhale, Brian’s hair tickling his face. He feels sluggish with orgasm, warm and fuzzy and so full of fucking — adoration that he’s not capable of moving much.

Brian reaches up and takes Pat’s wrists in his hands, slowly pulling Pat’s fingers out of his hair. Pushes Pat back up, against the couch, squeezing Pat’s hands before letting him go.

Pat watches him drag the back of his arm across his mouth, and if he were any fucking younger his dick might twitch at the sight.

Brian tucks his dick into his boxers and zips him back up, and smiles toothily up at him. “Hey Pat.”

Pat’s gotta figure out words again. They’re gonna stream in — soon. They’re gonna stream soon. Actual work, and Pat’s gotta be a human being about it, and not stare at Brian like he hung the fucking moon. Or at least like he didn’t just suck his dick. “Yeah?”

“Segment  _ come-_plete, Pat.” 

And Pat feels drunk with affection and shoves his face away, laughing.

**Author's Note:**

> THANKS FOR READING. ♥ you can check out my other fics by clicking on collection "strong and loves to fic", because fiveyearmission is hilarious and comes up with GOOD PUNS.


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